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Monday, April 23, 2012

Titanium and how more people should be made of it.

MRI

That's what's on the agenda tomorrow morning for us.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Big, calming breaths Extranjera.

As much as I want answers to what the hell is going on with Babe's dangerously dipping O2 saturation readings whenever she's asleep, the general anesthesia required for this study, especially since half of the kiddos with Down syndrome have adverse reactions to it, scares the shit out of me. There's a huge knot, possibly made up of coffee and eggs that accidentally boiled for 25 minutes yesterday, in my stomach, and even a worse jumble of assorted scary scenarios floating around my poor, addled, sleep deprived brain, also made super 'alert' by indecent amounts of coffee.

I'm not scared, but I'm not far from that edge either.

See, we thought the caffeine we're currently giving Babe (doctor's orders, unlike in my case, and equaling the amount of caffeine in about a liter of Coca-Cola), would make the central part of the apnea all better. Leaving us with something much easier to handle. Something to manage.

Or at least have some sort of ameliorative effect on the frequent 'episodes', which we know are there, although we can't actually see them.

This was going to go away and Babe was going to be on her way to healthy again.

1 comment:

The Viking came home from a business trip packing a pink castle, a whole heap of princess and prince dollies and a carriage pulled by a unicorn. Life's good until someone swallows a crown or a glass slipper. I won't ever answer your comment, but I'll sure appreciate it while I'm sifting through shit looking for that crown. Yah.

About Me

A child of a global world, originally from the land of Santa and cell phones, married to a bona fide viking, and attempting to raise a loud little life who has Down syndrome, all the while getting used to the US Pacific Northwest after many years in Latin America and Africa. Against all odds the kid's first words turned out to be 'mom' and 'book' instead of 'fuck' and 'no'. That may well turn out to have been my finest parenting moment ever.